
It’s almost exactly a year since I said goodbye to Sparky, my lovely big fat ginger tom. He was an old rescue cat who’s health was failing and we had to take him to the vet, fully expecting to be bringing him home. Unfortunately he was worse than we thought and they kept him in, and on the 21st of December we had to put him to sleep. You can imagine what kind of Christmas I had. Autopilot. Now I don’t want to depress anyone at this time of year, so this is a celebration of my daft and loyal cat. Continue reading
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To Sparky, wherever you are…
Sparky the Amazing Dancing Cat
Watch in HD, fullscreen!
Ok, he can’t really dance. Or read. But he was definitely funky.
Ever since reading Orlando the Marmalade Cat as a child, I wanted a ginger tom. Sparky was a rescue cat, and he was old when I got him. After six happy years with me, he became ill and passed away just before xmas 2010. It was a tough time, and shortly afterwards, I went to London. Staring out of my hotel room window, it really hit me that he was gone. I distinctly remember saying ‘Thankyou, Sparky. Thankyou for leaving me. Thanks a lot.’ Not my finest hour, but by a strange quirk, at that exact moment, underneath the planet in Oz, The Found Sound Orchestra were making a song out of heart strings, called ‘Thankyou 3 Times.’ Spooky! It’s the song that soundtracks my video, and I’m glad I had the forethought to record Sparky in glorious High Definition, during a blazing August sunrise in The Northern Quarter.
As Mrs. Madrigal says in Armistead Maupin’s Michael Tolliver Lives, ‘Someone to sit in the sun with me. Who doesn’t want to go anywhere.’
(Please. Don’t send kittens.)
Over the Edge
This is Sparky’s final resting place, up on Alderley Edge, near The Wizard’s Well, sprinkled liberally on a warm spring day. It felt quite liberating in a way. Rounded things off with ice cream and a bit of mountaineering. Sparky was my loyal ginger rescue cat who passed away shortly before Christmas 2010. Incidently, Alderley Edge is traditionally the heart of English folklore, and legend has it that Merlin the Wizard lived here, destined for greatness after King Arthur rode through the Edge on horseback, and the rest is history. There is actually a natural spring, gushing from a carving of Merlin’s face, hidden deep in the hillside. I thought this was a fitting grave for such a legendary cat.

There’s not much of his face left, but you could be looking at the ancient Magus of pagan Britain…
It was a beautiful day- a real break from the city. There were Porsches in the car park and proper elocution coming through the trees. Someone called Helena, who only lasted three years with the flute glided past with a giant poodle… that kind of affair.
Sparky lasted seven wonderful years with me. Now I have a place I can visit, without having to worry about anyone building a conservatory over him. As an update, although the ferns have grown around him, you can still see his ashes on the ground. He finally got to be an outdoor cat.

The Piglet. Possibly singing, more likely running a food cartel in the kitchen. Rest in peace X
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